


3 Kisses Skye and Coulson Could've Had In Lola But Didn't (And The One Kiss They Did)

by shortitude



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 'What If' scenarios, F/M, Kissing, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/pseuds/shortitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 Kisses Skye and Coulson Could've Had In Lola But Didn't (And The One Kiss They Did)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts), [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts), [notcaycepollard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/gifts), [Skyson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [nausicaa_of_phaeacia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/gifts), [touchtheskye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchtheskye/gifts).



> To everyone who participated in the **Skoulson RomFest 2k15 REDUX** , your fics have been a delight to stalk and read. This is my thank you note for all of you, complete with our very favourite _other_ girl: Lola. 
> 
> Clearly it goes without saying that all scenarios are could've-been AUs of independent scenes from s1 and s2. Except for the last one. The last one's totally canon. Any timeline error is my own, but you guys are creative enough to use the magic wand of AU and pretend like there's nothing wrong with it, right?

**(one)**

She’s finally got a way in with SHIELD after months of dipping her toe in a few minutes at a time to avoid being detected. She’s sure these people, who have years of being super secret spies behind them, would not hesitate in throwing her off their plane once they figure out she’s here with ulterior motives, but it’s all worth it to her. Just like being an Ironman fangirl for a day just to get a grand tour and plant a bug on Stark’s computers to piggy-back them into SHIELD had been worth the night spent in jail for illicit activities (that they couldn’t prove). 

She has no doubts that Agent May would be the first to pull the lever, because the woman seems to have a nose for these things and maybe Skye needs to up her game and impress her just to be on the safe side. And Agent Ward, who is Suit 2.0, would probably smirk about it and shake his head as she fell, sighing about sweaty cosplay girls who try to measure up to spies. Whatever. 

But she’s not sure about Coulson. 

He’s surprised her so far. And she doesn’t just mean the ride in the red corvette – lovingly named Lola, because of course he’d call her a woman’s name; a _sexy_ woman’s name too – but generally, genuinely surprised her. It’s the first time someone, and yes that someone being a suit counts a lot more, has taken a look at her and her rap sheet and decided _I could use her on my team of helping people_ , instead of handing her over to the authorities. She’s pretty sure that if not for him, she’d be rotting away under tons of SHIELD-standard paperwork. Or in a cell somewhere; she’s sure they have their own prisons, because of course why wouldn’t they. 

But no, here she is instead, safely tucked in the passenger’s seat of Lola, as they fly towards the Bus, after having left Ace with his aunt. It’s quite awesome, the feeling of having done _palpable_ good; it beats the excitement of putting up a podcast and feeling like you’ve stuck it up to the man. She feels lightheaded, a certain sign that this has the potential to be quite addictive if she lets it. 

She has to remind herself she’s not here to make friends, because the friendships wouldn’t be real anyway; she’s using these people to get to the bottom of her casefile, playing along because it’s practical. 

“How does it feel?” Coulson asks her over the silent hum of Lola’s engine. For a moment, she’s scared that he’s read into her mind (he _is_ a profiler, after all) and knows everything, but when she looks at him she realizes there’s a somewhat boyishly charming smile on his face. 

Phil Coulson, Major Suit himself, is quite handsome. Skye wishes she could feel more guilty for the thought, because of the usual reasons – Miles, her plan to infiltrate their group for her own gain, he represents everything Skye thought was wrong with society up until this moment – but she doesn’t. From all she’s seen in a day, Coulson leads his team firmly but he doesn’t leave a man behind just because he’s fallen in with the wrong crowd. What he did for Mike was impressively kind, for a SHIELD Agent. (She hopes he’ll do something similar for her, when he inevitably figures her out.) 

“Skye?” 

“It’s really cool,” she finally answers, and it’s true. “How many times have you flown her?” 

“This would be the first,” he answers, not looking up ahead at the – road? Sky? – but at her. Really quite handsome, Phil Coulson. 

Flirting comes like second nature to her in these cases; sometimes it’s a test. Some guys react well, bounce right back at her, but others fluster and look away and she doesn’t always trust those guys. She’s not testing Coulson this time (he’s already passed her tests). “That’s sweet, am I your first?”

Lola lurches a little towards the left, and Coulson frowns before saving the moment. “Try to be gentle with me,” he answers. 

Which, cute. He’s surprising her at every turn here, isn’t he? She’s going to be kept on her toes during this quest, if everyone on the team is as full of hidden layers as Coulson. 

“I know you might be nervous,” he speaks again, bringing her attention away from the perfect knot in his tie (it’s a nice tie, for a person who’s never been about men wearing ties), “But don’t be. What you did today, the way you helped Mr. Peterson…I know you’ll be a nice fit to the team, Skye.” 

It’s so strangely different. The first time she was accepted into The Rising Tide had been on a recommendation from Miles, and back then she’d thought _She’s alright, though she’s not me_ was a charming way of trying to play cool in the face of someone who’d clearly be superior, or Miles reestablishing his authority before introducing someone new to the group. But Coulson – as unfair this is to Miles to think so – isn’t comparing her to anyone but herself, and it’s… Is this what it feels like?

“Why’s that?” she asks, silent enough but still audible enough to reach his ears. 

“Call it an instinct.” 

Two of the nuns used to use that line to let Mary Sue Poots know that with her attitude she’d never last with this new family; she knows what it means: _I don’t believe in you_. Except, well, in this case it feels like the opposite. 

“Thanks, Phil,” she murmurs. Maybe it’s the adrenaline still buzzing through her veins after the first success in a while (hey, helping Mike had been a success!) that pushes her, or maybe it’s being fed that line again but with a completely opposite meaning. Whatever it is that pushes her to lean over and into his space, she doesn’t plan for him to look towards her when she’s poised to kiss his cheek. 

There’s a flash of panic in those blue, boyishly charming eyes, then Lola lurching left again, and gravity doing the rest of the job. He has soft lips. She’s never spent a lot of time thinking of the lips of men older than her, but it should probably not surprise her that he can have a soft mouth. 

In the flick of an instant, she closes her eyes and experiments. She could tell herself that this would be a great advantage to have when infiltrating a team, but the fact would remain that she’s doing this because she wants to. And he doesn’t seem far behind, if the way he inhales through his nose right before kissing her is any clue.

 _Oh, but he’s good_ , she thinks, her eyebrows pinching in concentration as she struggles not to let out a moan. It still happens, the softest little sound that has him reaching out for her with one hand. His thumb strokes along the line of her jaw, and she gives credit to the trope of the older, experienced man, because damn. Also, damn, his mouth.

“Skye,” he finally murmurs, breaking away from a kiss that has probably sucked her dry and left her wet. 

Before what she can feel is going to happen happens – before he gets the chance to say it can’t happen again – there’s a beeping sound that distracts his attention. “Word from the Bus,” he murmurs, drawing himself away from her to push a button on Lola’s control panel. Skye, wisely, pulls herself back into her seat and decides not to think about Miles or her mission for a while. 

“0-8-4 spotted,” he reads out, then smirks up at her. “You’re going to like this,” he says, and pushes the accelerator on Lola’s thrusters; all signs of regrets seem to be gone, and he’s all charm again. “Buckle up.” 

 

**(two)**

“I told you to buckle up,” he’s saying, touching her face with both hands like he can’t quite believe she’s there, alive and in one piece. Frankly, Skye can’t believe it either; if she’d had a less solid grip on him and Lola, she would’ve fallen. She would’ve died. 

That’s the fourth time in two days that she could’ve been dead. Once would’ve been if she hadn’t reset Ward’s coin, second would’ve been if she hadn’t been clever enough to fool him into thinking she was in love with him, and third would’ve been if she had truly pissed him off with that headbutt. And now the fourth time, plunging out of a plane with Lola, being shot at, and getting rescued. Getting rescued. 

“Coulson,” she finally gets out, her hands reaching up to wrap around his wrists. She doesn’t pull his hands away from her face, and neither does he. They could’ve died, they probably have wrecked Lola for good, they’re in public, and she’s pretty sure they’re having a moment. 

Only this time, there’s no Agent May to come in and watch with hawk-like eyes as Skye presses his palm to her cheek. “You came for me?” Her voice croaks, raw. “ _Alone_? Are you –“ 

“I had to,” he murmurs, his expression accepting no criticism on this. He runs his thumb across her left cheekbone, and sends a shiver down her spine unintentionally. Probably unintentionally, she thinks, because he hasn’t given her any clue about – his gaze flickers down to her mouth – oh, there’s her clue. “You did the same for me.” 

She lets out a sheepish little laugh. “Are we in some competition? You pretty much brought me back from certain death with the serum, I think you’re in the lead.” 

“I had to.” It’s not – she realizes – him being all ‘no man left behind’. It’s more _no Skye left behind_. 

And it means so much, it means so very much to her. With everything that’s happened these past few months – sharing her secret with him, holding his hand after he’d told her about what he’d found on her, being given a second chance, being believed in, being valued – this isn’t a new feeling Skye experiences. It’s old and well-worn, like her best flannel shirts, the kind that might get lost under the bed at some point but will never get thrown out. “I’m so crazy about you,” she tells him, right there and then and in public after they’ve just crashed the car. 

Because she needs to, she _needs_ to before there’s ever another chance that someone like Ward might confuse her (grooming her, her brain supplies, and she stifles a horrible shudder), or the world catches up with them. 

If she’s at all terrified of his reaction, of what he might say or how softly he might let her down, she doesn’t have to be. 

She’s thought about this before, don’t think she hasn’t. She has wondered plenty of times what it would be like to kiss this man, but not once has she imagined that he’d be the one launching himself forward and crushing his mouth against her with the most hungry, desperate sound. 

He pulls her closer, and she tries to get closer; she has half a mind to climb over and straddle him in his seat, and give Lola the farewell it should deserve. Except her seatbelt safety tugs her back so fast she almost gets whiplash, and he drowns a bitter laugh against her mouth. “ _Now_ you work,” he murmurs against her lips, and then does something with his hand – right, unbuckling her – and she’s in his lap, _finally finally finally_.

“Crazy,” she murmurs between kisses, her fingers in his hair and his hands on her hips then on her back then on her sides; she feels so loved, and it’s so nice to feel loved, “about you.”

As a way of saying _ditto_ , he bites her lower lip, and grins with it between his teeth when she groans and rolls her hips against him. 

“Err – two dollars an hour for parking. Hello? This is a public street, you know?” 

_I don’t care_ , she wants to growl at the valet, _I’m crazy about him and I don’t care._

 

**(three)**

 

She can’t explain why she ends up picking Lola to hide in, because even with its top on and the tarp thrown over it, she’s pressure sure it’s less conspicuous than the SUV. But she’s just found out Coulson and May have installed cameras all over the place to _watch_ her, in case she turns out to be alien or whatever, and she needs to be somewhere she’s not doubted. 

Of course, Coulson knows where to find her. He’s got a better read on her than anyone on the team, though he’s been good at pretending like he doesn’t care ever since they moved HQ to the Playground. He _would_ know where to find her, it just surprises her that he makes an effort to do it. 

She’s not pouting in here, curled up in the driver’s seat, staring at the way the tarp covers the windshield. She certainly doesn’t have to school her expression into a neutral one when he joins her in the car, simply because she’s not pouting. 

“You might not get to drive her if you don’t treat her nicely,” he finally breaks the ice. She brings her feet down from Lola’s seat. 

“You sure you want to promise that to a possible alien?”

“Skye.”

“No, don’t Skye me. What happened to trusting me? You having me on surveillance for months should’ve been the _first_ thing you told me after we went in on this map together.” She doesn’t look at him, but she knows that her words have hurt him. Good, he deserves a little taste of his own medicine for a change. 

“I was afraid.” The guy can’t even let her feel vindictive in peace. Stupid, perfect Coulson. 

“I’m still mad at you even if it sounds logical.” 

“You’re in your right to be.”

“ _Ugh_ , stop saying the right thing!” She’s not half-smiling, that’s just an illusion, shut up. She also hasn’t just reached over and knocked him on the shoulder like he’s her college fratboy friend. “You keep saying the right thing and it’s annoying when I want to be mad at you.” 

“Okay.” She glances at him, and sees him focusing on something; she’s not sure what he’s thinking about now, but she can feel that this conversation isn’t over. He runs his hands over Lola’s dashboard, and she wonders if he thinks about the last time they flew it; if it matters to him that Lola’s swan song was to save them both from certain death. If it matters to him as much as it does to her. He opens his mouth, hesitating, and she pays attention. “That’s a nice shirt, is it new?”

“ _Jesus_ , Coulson.” She’s not laughing, that’s just an illusion, shut up. She’s stressed as hell and she wants to be mad. But, “Way to let a girl know you like her back in the same breath as ‘you might be an alien’.”

Silence. She thinks, great – given herself away and made him uncomfortable in one breath. New record, go Skye. “Like her _back_?”

“You’d hear _that_ ,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and finally twisting in her seat to look at him. 

“Skye…”

She holds her hand up. “Let me just – I’m not happy with you right now. You know all these times I’ve said we were in the dark together, _I_ meant them. But everytime you said it back, you had a flashlight in your hand -- _don’t_ smirk at my super deep analogies.”

“Super deep,” he agrees, still smirking. 

“You’re so frustrating.”

“I’ve been told.” He pauses, one eyebrow raised. “Like me _back_.” 

“Did you not _know_?” She’s pretty sure she’s been giving him the right signs all these months. You know, running to his rescue, keeping his secrets, acting like a lovesick puppy whenever he came back to base for another episode of Coulson Acts Like A Tool… 

“I didn’t think _you_ knew.” 

If she keeps rolling her eyes, she’s going to get a headache. “You let me touch Lola. I’m not an idiot.” 

“One of the many things I like about you.”

She groans. “Oh my _god_ , Coulson—“

“Skye,” he interrupts, his gaze soft and the humour toned down to just the mischief flickering behind his eyes. “May I kiss you?”

“Shit.” She clamps her hand over her mouth fast, like she’s seven again and the nuns have just heard her spit out her first curse word. Only instead of four Hail Marys as punishment, what she could be getting out of this is kissing. With Coulson? 

She’s still mad, a little. She’s going to tell him that, she’s decided; only, _after_ she climbs over in his seat and kisses him so thoroughly she ruins him for other women. 

 

**(one)**

She thinks it’s pretty hard to get excited about work right now, when she’s barely had time to recover from the consequences of the last battle. Don Winslow looks happy, calm, healthy; he’s going to fit in with the people in the city, and they’re going to love him because her father is worthy of being loved. For all his faults, for the terrible things he did in order to find her, she must believe now that he was deserving of this second chance. 

There is that, at least, that she can feel relieved at. 

But there’s everything else that sits like a weight on her shoulders that she doesn’t know how to shake off yet. There’s Ward – alive and out there, _again_ , and how many more times must he get away before she can finally aim for his head? – and there’s the state SHIELD’s been left in, there’s the uncertain fate of her fellow Inhumans – if they even believe her to be one of them; Raina’s predictions aside, she doubts a kumbaya around the fire will happen soon – and there’s Coulson. 

She feels partially responsible for that, but he’s asked her not to. She also feels entirely proud of him, but completely terrified now by the thought that him dying could’ve been a possibility. 

And last, there’s the CATERPILLARS project. That’ll take her away from the base eventually, because that’s the whole point of a secret mission. They’re breaking the transparency rule again, but for an honestly good cause, and Skye can’t think of any other Director who would do this for her. It’s going to be tough to be away, and she’s going to miss everyone all over again, but maybe she can postpone the start of this mission until the dust settles with SHIELD. 

They have to prove to the Council that Skye’s reliable, and that she hasn’t compromised anyone whose name starts with P. But, given the folder sitting currently in his lap, the mission he’s designed for her and the HQ he’s going to have to eventually set up for her, _that’s_ one pile of bullshit. Not compromised, her foot. 

Still, it’s best to give it a few weeks if not months before she sneaks off to her secret missions, to be safe. And then, well – the sky’s the limit. She snorts.

“What’s funny?” 

She glances at Coulson, who looks like he could use a laugh. “Oh, nothing, I was just – making puns.” 

He looks at her expectantly, and though it’s a little embarrassing to repeat it out loud, she also thinks that Coulson’s the kind of guy who’d enjoy that sort of weird humour. 

“I was thinking about the future, actually,” she tells him, for context. “How we’re about to pick up a whole new side mission on uncharted territory. And I …well, I thought that in _this_ case…the sky’s the limit?” She cringes; yeah, it’s embarrassing to repeat it out loud. “It sucks, nevermind.” 

“Hmm. I don’t know,” he finally says, after a whole minute of thinking it over. “I’d say the sky’s limitless, in this case.” 

She’s not sure if that sound that comes out of her throat is a snort of a sob, or a little bit of both. “Coulson,” she starts, reaching over for his right hand, which he has in his lap. It’s more touchy-feely than she usually gets with him, but the two of them have barely had the time to settle into being back together again. Not that – not that they’re _together_. Just, safe and on the same base, and alive, and working together, and he’s smiling now. 

“Was it bad?” He still has the world’s most wonderfully soft smile, and she loves it. Hell, _him_.

“The worst,” she answers back, and smiles at the road ahead of them as she squeezes her hand with his. 

“Well,” he pauses, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I believe it’s true.” 

She has to pay attention to the road, because they’re not in the air yet, so she can’t afford to jump when he raises her hand to brush his lips to the back of her palm. She can’t afford to curl her hand over the shape of his jaw, either, because traffic hazard. But she wants to, oh she wants to. “Besides, it’s science,” he adds, and she lets out a little laugh. 

The tide may be rising, but finally she feels like she’s swimming towards it prepared.

**Author's Note:**

> if I've missed anyone in my excruciatingly long dedication lost, I'm sorry. As for the graphic artists and the people who came up with the best fanart of the world, don't think this isn't for you as well BECAUSE IT IS.


End file.
